


lay here lazy

by helahler



Series: Domestic WinterPanther [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Beefy Bucky, Bucky wears an apron, Domesticity, Established Relationship, M/M, T'challa has a lot of feelings about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helahler/pseuds/helahler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T’Challa announces his arrival at Bucky’s apartment with the sound of expensive shoes tapping against the floor and the noise of his briefcase hitting the floorboards with a heavy thud.  </p><p>“Long day at the office?” Bucky teases, craning his neck over the back of the couch. </p><p>In answer, T’Challa peels off his jacket and toes off his shoes, before shuffling over and face-planting in the couch by Bucky’s side, in what might be the least graceful movement Bucky’s ever seen him do. He makes a long, tired sigh, the sound mostly muffled by the cushions his face is pressed against. </p><p>Bucky snorts. “That bad, huh?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	lay here lazy

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read as a stand-alone; no spoilers for Civil War, though I imagine this to be set some time in the distant post-CW future. The first half of this fic is mostly fluff - if you want to skip the explicit stuff, stop reading at '+++'.

T’Challa announces his arrival at Bucky’s apartment with the sound of expensive shoes tapping against the floor and the noise of his briefcase hitting the floorboards with a heavy thud. 

“Long day at the office?” Bucky teases, craning his neck over the back of the couch. 

In answer, T’Challa peels off his jacket and toes off his shoes, before shuffling over and face-planting in the couch by Bucky’s side, in what might be the least graceful movement Bucky’s ever seen him do. He makes a long, tired sigh, the sound mostly muffled by the cushions his face is pressed against. 

“That bad, huh?” Bucky snorts, shifting until his back is resting against one end of the coach. He opens his arms, nudging gently at T’Challa’s shoulder with his foot: _c’mere_. T’Challa turns his head enough to squint at Bucky with one eye, before accepting the invitation, slowly crawling up Bucky’s body until he’s settled comfortably on Bucky’s solid chest. 

One muscled arm comes up to curl around his back, the warm metal of the other slowly stroking over T’Challa’s hair, drawing out a noise that could, conceivably, be called a ‘purr’ by anyone willing to be dropkicked in the face by the King of Wakanda. Currently the only person on this list was one James Buchanan Barnes; after their fateful first encounters their sparring now involved a whole lot less actual bodily harm and a whole lot more ‘let’s see how long we can rile each other up before we tear off each other’s clothes’. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Bucky asks after a while, rubbing soothing circles over T’Challa’s back. 

“The British ambassador is--” T’Challa pauses, searching for the appropriate term. 

“An asshole?” Bucky offers, smirking. 

T’Challa snorts. “I was going to say ‘testing my patience’. But yes,” he agrees, after a moment’s hesitation. “I can confirm that he is also an asshole.” 

Bucky opens his mouth to respond, his words cut short by the loud rumbling of T’Challa’s stomach. There’s a brief moment of silence, and then Bucky laughs. 

“I cooked earlier, so I just gotta heat it up,” he says. “If you go wash up the food’ll be ready by the time you get back.” 

T’Challa makes a noise of protest, settling more firmly against Bucky’s chest. “That would involve moving, when I’m perfectly happy right here. In fact,” he says, sitting up a little and brushing his thumb over Bucky’s covered nipple until it hardens up beneath his touch, “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.” 

“Easy, tiger,” Bucky snorts, his breath stuttering when T’Challa shifts his body to reach over and rub at the other nipple too. 

“Panther,” T’Challa corrects, grinning both at the affronted noise that Bucky makes in response and at the way he bites his lip when T’Challa ducks down and nuzzles at his stubbled jaw, sucking a line of bruises into the pale skin there. By the time he draws back Bucky is beginning to flush all over and breathing heavy. He reaches up with his metal hand, cupping the back of T’Challa’s neck to draw him into a kiss---

T’Challa’s stomach makes another loud growling noise.

“Alright, alright,” Bucky snorts, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “Go shower; I’ll get Your Highness’ food ready.” 

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” T’Challa says, pulling away from Bucky and smoothing down his clothes. 

Bucky stands and turns to offer T’Challa a hand up. “Pretty sure you don’t.” 

T’Challa takes Bucky’s hand and lets himself be pulled up, before tugging Bucky into a soft, close-mouthed kiss. 

“You’re right,” he smirks as he pulls back, heading towards the shower and peeling off his clothes as he goes. He pauses halfway to turn back and look at Bucky, who's currently winding an apron around his waist and humming happily to himself. “I really don’t.”

+++

When T’Challa gets back from his shower, now dressed in a pair of Bucky’s sweats slung low on his hips and a dark vest top that shows off his shoulders nicely, he has half the mind to jump Bucky’s bones right then and there in the kitchen, Bucky’s apron and all. Except that once he gets a taste of the meal Bucky’s put together - a Wakandan delicacy, one of T’Challa’s favourites - he can’t help but sit down and dig in, savouring every flavour. Somewhere between the time spent together in Wakanda and Brooklyn, Bucky’s become a pretty spectacular cook. 

By the time the meal’s finished, T’Challa’s trying to figure out the best way to show his appreciation. Bucky’s standing at the kitchen counter, packing up the leftovers into tupperware containers for T’Challa to give to Okoye and Nakia when he sees them tomorrow. It’ll be nice for them to get a taste of home while they’re here; it’s the first time they’ve been away from Wakanda. 

T’Challa walks up behind Bucky, settling his arms around Bucky’s waist and ducking his head to mouth softly at the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky sighs in contentment, leaning into the touch. After a few more seconds he puts the labelled containers to one side and turns around to wind his arms around T’Challa’s neck, pulling him into a kiss that starts off gentle but rapidly turns filthy. By the time they pull apart they’re both flushed, a little-wild eyed with anticipation.

“Bed?” T’Challa suggests. 

“Please,” Bucky says, unable to stifle the groan of pure heat as T’Challa picks him up, securing Bucky’s thighs around his waist and walking them both towards the bedroom. Carefully he lowers Bucky onto the bed, following him down and covering Bucky’s body with his own before ducking down and fitting their mouths together. 

Bucky slides his mismatched hands from T’Challa’s broad shoulders down to his hips and then back up again, wanting to touch all of him, to feel all of that solid strength rippling beneath his touch. On the next long slide of his hands he settles his hands on T’Challa’s waist, coaxing him to roll his hips until they’re sliding up against each other nice and slow, working up a sweat, exchanging kisses back and forth until they’re breathless and needing more. 

T’Challa pulls back enough to peel off his shirt and slide his pants down his hips - he’s bare underneath - before leaning in, pushing up the apron Bucky’s still wearing and sliding Bucky’s pants and underwear down in one steady motion, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the pale skin he reveals: the tops of Bucky’s feet, his knees, his hips. T’Challa leans in, nosing at Bucky’s heavy balls, before ducking down and licking soft and slow over the tip of his cock, feeling Bucky’s hips twitch beneath his touch. He pulls back a little to look up at Bucky - eyes dark with need, lips bitten red. 

“You, uh,” Bucky pants, trying to suppress a groan as T’Challa presses in close again to suck a bruise against Bucky’s hip, “you sure do like the apron.”

“I do,” T’Challa murmurs, his lips brushing over Bucky’s skin. “But I think I still prefer you without it.” 

He nudges at Bucky’s side, getting him to roll over onto his front so he can undo the apron’s tie and slide the rest of it over Bucky’s head, along with the shirt he’d been wearing underneath. When that’s done Bucky turns his head, looking back over his shoulder at T’Challa, his eyes challenging: _come on._

In response T’Challa presses in close, biting gently at the corner of Bucky’s jaw and sliding his cock right up against Bucky’s ass, like a promise of what’s to come. With one hand he reaches around Bucky’s body to rub his knuckles over Bucky’s pinked nipple, feeling him push greedily into the touch, while with his other hand he gets a hold of the lube on the bedside table, deftly coating his fingers. 

He reaches down, brushing his thumb over Bucky’s hole, getting it nice and wet, keeping his touch light and teasing until Bucky’s making soft, cut-off noises of desperation and rutting up against T’Challa’s hand. After a few more moments T’Challa relents, rubbing two slick fingers around Bucky’s hole before slowly working them inside, Bucky rolling his hips back and forth to take him in up to knuckle, hot and tight around him. 

"Yeah, yeah, right there," Bucky groans softly, encouraging. Feels so good, being filled like this, T’Challa stroking slow and careful inside him until bright sparks of pleasure are bursting behind his eyelids; but he wants more, wants all of it, everything T’Challa has to give. 

After a few more minutes of being worked open, Bucky rolls onto his back, drawing one knee up and letting the other sprawl to the side, his arm curling over T’Challa’s shoulders, pulling him in close for a sloppy kiss. With his free arm he reaches for the lube, slicking his hand up and reaching down to give T’Challa’s cock a long, slow stroke, before finally, _finally_ , T’Challa gets his hands on Bucky’s waist and begins to ease his way inside with slow, steady rolls of his hips. 

By the time he’s all the way in, Bucky’s wild-eyed, shuddering from the force of holding himself back from coming; feels so damn _good,_ having T’Challa inside him like this, all the solid warmth of his pressed right up close, his mouth brushing over the fluttering pulse in Bucky’s neck, the faint scratch of the hair on his chest scraping deliciously over Bucky’s nipples with every slight movement. T’Challa’s shaking too, from the silky warm feel of Bucky around him, the smooth muscle beneath his hands, all that incredible strength at T’Challa’s mercy. 

And T’Challa is merciful: they’ve both had enough of teasing. He pulls back, almost all of the way out, thrusting powerfully back in again and again, feeling the slickness of precome between them, Bucky clenching tight around him with every roll of his hips and moaning every time T’Challa angles himself just right; won’t take much more to get them both there. 

"Look at you," T'Challa murmurs, half to himself, against Bucky's chest, ducking down to run his tongue over Bucky’s nipple, tugging at it with his teeth, getting mean about it. "Look at how good you take me." 

He slides a hand from Bucky’s waist down over the curve of his ass, running a finger right along the edge of Bucky’s hole, where he’s stretched tight around T’Challa’s cock, the sensation drawing another breathy noise from Bucky’s throat that quickly chokes off into silence as T’Challa slides his hand down to Bucky’s cock, thick and swollen and begging to be touched. 

"Fuck," Bucky gasps, nearly sobbing into the pillow as T'Challa finally gets a hand around him. "Fuck, fuck, yeah, so -- _ah_ \-- so good, you're so good to me."

T'Challa grins, jerking Bucky off in time with his thrusts. He mouths a line back up from Bucky’s chest to his jaw to his mouth, driving into him and touching him and kissing him until Bucky makes a soft, broken noise and comes, spurting hot and wet over T’Challa’s knuckles. The powerful clench of his shuddering body pulls T’Challa over the edge too, his kisses going sloppy and uncoordinated as he thrusts in a final time and spills deep with a low groan. 

He gentles his fist on Bucky’s cock, coaxing the last few drops from him before letting him go, pulling out with a slick noise and settling himself over Bucky, resting partly on his heaving chest. Bucky curls an arm around his back, pressing his nose against T’Challa’s temple.

For a while they’re both quiet, letting their breathing even out. They should clean up, should probably shower, too; T’Challa has several more important political meetings in the mornings. But it feels good to lie here, to be here with Bucky, like this, pressed up skin to skin. It’s peaceful, after the stresses of the day that felt like it would never end. T’Challa can feel himself slipping down into a doze, and shifts to curl himself around Bucky’s body, tangling their legs together. 

He’s mostly asleep when Bucky finally speaks. 

“Wow. You _really_ like the apron, huh?” 

“You are never going to let that go, are you?” T’Challa says after a long pause.

“Nope,” Bucky grins, curling his arm tighter around T’Challa’s waist and closing his eyes. 

T’Challa makes a noise that might be a growl, and leans into the touch.

And if he goes into the kitchen the next morning and is greeted with the sight of Bucky cooking breakfast wearing the apron and nothing else, well, it’s not his fault that he ends up arriving late to his meetings. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ***Okoye and Nakia are part of the Dora Milaje, T'Challa's all-female bodyguards - their inclusion here was pretty much inspired by [this post.](http://butterfly-effect.tumblr.com/post/142886659248/so-apparently-black-panther-in-the-comics-has) And this entire fic was probably subconsciously inspired by [this post.](http://hollahollagettchalla.tumblr.com/post/142109205527/im-just-really-fond-of-bucky-being-super-into)
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://helahler.tumblr.com/), feel free to drop me a message if you want to yell about SamBucky and T'ChallaBucky. Also, if you liked, you can reblog this fic from [here!](http://helahler.tumblr.com/post/143764825794/lay-here-lazy-tchallabucky-barnes-2069-words)
> 
> Words can't describe how much I appreciate feedback and comments - I'd really, really love to hear what you thought of this, and any prompts for future scenes that you'd like to see! <3


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